The Women Who Loved Him
by angelfishlex
Summary: Three different women who have connected with the same man. They each deal with his actions toward them in contrasting ways. A character analysis, includes spoilers for Season Three. Please read and review...


_**AN: I know it's been forever since I've posted, but I've been getting busier with school lately since I graduate in May. Thank you all for your support and reviews for my stories.**_

* * *

 _ **Molly Hooper**_

No matter how much she wanted to hate Sherlock Holmes, she could never find herself crossing that line. She never thought of herself as the kind of person who could loathe another.

But the sheer nerve of that frustrating man!

That morning as she stood before him in the lab, seeing the results of the drug test at 7:00 in the morning after John had dragged him from the crack den.

Her first reaction was frozen disbelief, as if her brain was not able to process John Watson bringing in the bedraggled, stubble-faced stranger clothed in a filthy hoodie and accompanied by the stench of cigarettes and lack of hygiene.

After the test came back positive, she could only assert her answer with something she should have done a long time ago…

 _SMACK!_

 _How could you do this?_

 _SMACK!_

 _Where is the brilliant dignified man I know as Sherlock Holmes?_

 _SMACK!_

 _It doesn't matter. Sherlock and this strung-out imposter are one in the same._

Where was the man who had kissed her cheek with grace and selflessness at Shillcot's flat after he had spotted the engagement ring on her finger all those months ago?

It hardly mattered anymore. He would do anything for a case or a temporary high… Or both.

She had tried to move on with Tom and didn't succeed. If people wanted to scrutinize and criticize her for it, then let them.

She loved William Sherlock Scott Holmes almost has much as she wanted to despise him.

Damn both him and herself. Life was complicated and she would deal with it.

* * *

 _ **Irene Adler**_

As The Woman, she knew no dignity in feeling anything for her clients. But with _him_ , everything was different.

As she watched him decipher the email code she had presented him with such specific detail in only the mere space of a minute, she had never recalled feeling so genuinely thrilled in her twenty years in the dominatrix profession.

The fluidity with which he had spoken his silken words of such a dreadfully dull topic made her want to feel everything she could, invade him with all her power. Unlock his concealed emotions she knew were there, his natural impulses as a human man.

Now, that fateful password had been discovered through her infatuation, her true attraction to him.

 _ **S-H-E-R-**_ **LOCKED…**

She could only stand speechless as his biting words against the notion of love and its abilities to destroy only rang true to her scolding mind. Her pounding heart only made her pulse accelerate with fear as he turned away from her directed at his Iceman brother.

"If you're feeling kind, lock her up. Otherwise, let her go. I doubt she'll survive long without her _protection_." His growling voice hissed out that final word as he disregarded her frozen presence and she managed to demand of him with a shaking tone.

"Are you expecting me to beg?" The tears stung her eyes, a sensation she had not felt for an eternity.

"Yes." He stopped right at the door, staring straight ahead as she gazed at his incorruptible profile. He was so cold with no passing regard to her exposure.

"Please." She asked without caring who heard her. "You're right. I won't even last six months."

He turned his head to look at her at last, aquamarine eyes piercing her own with no sympathy. This would be the last time they would see each other as far as she knew. How she was dying to know what thoughts were racing through his mind…

"Sorry about dinner." It wasn't an apology, but a casual statement as if the plans had changed for neither better nor worse.

He walked through the door and was gone from her bleary-eyed sight…

Little did she know what close call in the future she would face in another life, in a different world… These words would save her.

" _When I say 'run',_ _run_ _!"_

* * *

 _ **Janine Donlevy**_

"I'm buying a cottage." The Irish beauty slammed down the tabloid papers by his bedside, a prideful smirk forming on her face as she absorbed her fake fiance's reaction. "I made a lotta money out of you, mister. Nothing hits the spot like revenge with profits."

"You didn't give these stories to Magnussen, did you?" He used his thumb and forefinger to lift up one of the papers by the corner. A slight stab of empathy pinged her heart when she heard the evident weakness in his usually strong voice.

"God, no. One of his rivals. He was spittin'." She had never felt so free in her life than through the past few weeks. She no longer had to be under her boss's thumb… or on his disgusting tongue.

The hospitalized detective grunted in response to her, keeping level with her eyes.

"Sherlock Holmes, you are a backstabbing, heartless and manipulative bastard." The bitterness within her resurrected itself, but the anger had vanished. She should have known right away that he had never intended to marry after barely a month of dating. Or if anyone could call what they were doing "dating".

"You, as it turns out, are a grasping, opportunistic, publicity hungry tabloid whore." The head of his bed raised up, as if he were standing up without physically being able to do so.

"So we're good then?" She had been called worse things in her life and she was a woman who could tell when a man liked her. And Sherlock did truly become find of her despite what he had done.

"Yeah, of course." He shrugged with a brief smile that almost caused her to reciprocate when he clicked his tongue and asked her. "Where's the cottage?"

"Sussex Downs. It's gorgeous. There's beehives, but I'm getting rid of those." As she talked, he readjusted himself as a wave of pain overwhelmed him. "It hurts, doesn't it?" You might wanna restart your morphine. I might've fiddled with the taps." In truth, his current pain of body matched with the pain she felt at being used as a means to an end.

"How much more revenge are you going to need?" He managed to gasp out, reaching over to mess with the morphine tap and control the pain.

"Just the occasional top-up. Dream come true for you, this place. They actually attach the drugs _to_ you." She wasn't stupid. She had heard in Baker Street how had nearly broken his brother's arm while under a massive high.

"Not good for working." He rasped out.

"You won't be working for awhile, Sherl. You lied to me. You lied and lied." She shook her head, disappointment overriding her bitterness.

"I exploited the fact of our connection." He said it like it was only a step in solving the case.

"When?" She asked with obvious disbelief. "Just once would have been nice."

"I was waiting until we got married." He rushed out the sentence, avoiding eye contact with her. Perhaps even he had come to be ashamed of what he did.

"That was never gonna happen." She nearly chuckled out her response to his bullshit claim before rising from her seat. "Gotta go. I'm not supposed to keep you talking." She bent down and planted a surprisingly gentle kiss upon his forehead, a curl of his hair briefly tickling her nose as she did so. "And I have an interview with the One Show and I haven't made it up yet."

Gathering her coat, she went to the door before turning to face the enigmatic man before her. She knew it was best to go their separate ways.

"Just one thing. You shouldn't have lied to me. I know what kind of man you are." He only stared back in silence at her words of letting go. "We could've been friends. I'll give your love to John and Mary."

She knew he was a flawed man who allowed his addictions to control him, but somewhere deep down there was something different. She felt like she could be herself with him and his kisses had been gentle despite the apparent lack of passion. She wished him well, but would move on with a new life, despite never forgetting about Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
